Alone

Every once in a while, despite my best efforts to ignore and subdue, I realize that I am alone.  Whether or not I am physically alone is mostly irrelevant.  The fact is that I feel alone almost all the time - and have done for at least the last 24 years.  I have never felt that I fit in, that I am understood.  It has been proven time and again that I don't fit in, that I am not understood, that I just don't think like the masses.  And while independent thinking is, perhaps, a good trait to have, the result for me is that I feel very alone.

I'm sure there are a few people who would be surprised to hear this, for I have many friends.  I have 245 "friends" on Facebook and countless real life "friends" all over the world.  I am very close to some of these people and I can pour my heart out to them if I wish to (and sometimes I do).  But in the end, when the conversation is over, I go back to being alone.  It's a feeling I can never seem to shake, no matter how hard I try.

And I do try.  I don't like being alone or feeling alone and I don't think I should feel alone. Quite honestly, I'm tired of feeling this way.  I am married, I have a family, I go to school, I have an active social life and seem to have plenty of people around me often enough.  All of that should mean something; stand for something; provide me with something.  Sometimes it does, but never for long enough.  And sometimes I am successful at ignoring the loneliness, but never for long enough.

Sparkle and Shine

I started writing a post a couple of weeks ago but never got it finished.  In fact, I don't think I even finished the first sentence (although I was much further along in my head).  The post was in response to a surprise phone call I got from a dear old frined.  This friend and I don't speak often and luckily that hasn't ever managed to diminish our friendship.  Because we hadn't talked in so long, we had a lot of catching up to do.  As I went about filling him in on various developments in my life over the past few months (year?) he commented that I have my sparkle back.  Not only did I love the way he worded his observation, but it was yet another confirmation that I have chosen the right path.

Unfortunately, the tide turned soon after that conversation and a number of factors in my personal life had me starting on a(nother) downward spiral into depression.  Luckily that only lasted a couple of days before I was able to pull myself back up.  I'm sure school played a roll in that as well, as it shifted my focus to anatomy, rather than the world at large that I was sure was conspiring against me.

This weekend I had a 16-hour seminar in Polarity, which is a form of energy work/healing.  In the course of the day on Sunday, we did some work that touched upon some areas that I obviously still need to work on.  I still have a lot of emotional and spiritual work to do and there are still some deeply covered wounds that need to be healed.

So while I may have had my sparkle back a couple of weeks ago, I think it has dimmed to a shimmer.  But knowing I was sparkly for even a short while gives me hope that I may someday figure out how to make my sparkle stick around.

Building Courage

I had my first class last Friday.  It was my "Hands On" class, but being the first one I really had no idea what to expect.  I knew there would be some sort of orientation but beyond that, I was prepared to just do whatever came my way.  The first two hours were, indeed, spent listening the the school director explain all the minute details of the school, the program and what we could expect in the coming year.  After a short lunch, we dove straight into massage.

I have never been one of those people who has always loved to massage her friends and family.  While I love to touch people, giving massages has really never been something I did.  Honestly, I balked at the idea of massage therapy for a long time because I had always thought of it in the wrong way.  It wasn't until I began to understand that it was a mode of healing that I really became interested in it. 

So when we were suddenly expected to massage each other in class, I was hit by a big wave of fear and hesitation.  I had never really massaged anyone before and now I was expected to give a massage to some girl I'd just met.  It wasn't that I minded touching her, it was that I had no idea what I was doing!  But we were under some time pressure and I had no choice but to jump right in and do the best I could.  I felt awkward and unsure but I did it.  The nice thing about massage is that really, any massage is a good one so I don't think what I did was terrible -- but I'm sure it could have been better.

My homework for this class is to give massages to 3 different people every week.  I have very quickly acquired a LONG list of friends and aquaintances who have volunteered to be one of my homework 'victims' and although I appreciate their willingness to help me out, I decided to start close to home and to give my first massages to my husband and 2 close friends.  But you know what?  Even that has me a little freaked out.  I have put off and procrastinated and I'm quickly running out of time to get my massages done in time.  I know these people will be very kind and understanding and non-judgmental and will be happy to receive any sort of massage, no matter how amateur, but I am still very, very nervous.

I suppose, just like in class, it's probably best not to think about it too much. I should just jump right in and do what I can.  I just hope that this gets easier, that with every massage I give I build a little bit more courage to make the next one easier.   

It's funny that before school started, I was mostly nervous about the academics.  Now I have found that there's more to be nervous about.  I guess I have a lot to learn this year, both about massage and about myself.

Congratulations to Me

It's official: I am a student!  Again.!  There are still a few loose ends to tie up (like paying tuition and signing up for electives) but today I completed the enrollment process and am now ready to start classes to become a massage therapist and holistic/energy healer. 

I am, for the most part, very excited.  Part of me is still a little freaked out by the prospect of having to use my brain after 12 years of dormancy (is that even a word?!) and the fact that I will have to learn science-type stuff (physiology, anatomy) but mostly, as I said, I am thrilled.

And I am very, very proud of myself.  This is proof that although the last year has been very difficult, I have grown and I am ready to set out and, well, grow some more.  I wouldn't have had the confidence to do this a few years ago, even if I had known what I wanted to do.  It's been a rocky road, but it seems to have led me in the right direction.

I also know that this is just a step, but it's a pretty big one.  There will be other steps - taken one at a time - and the road may continue to be rocky as I learn who I am, who I want to be and how I fit into the world around me, but for now I am enjoying this moment and all the happiness it has brought with it. 

So, raise a glass, my friends: it's time to celebrate!

Believe & Achieve

Tonight I'm stealing again.  If I knew the author, I would gladly give credit but as far as I know, it's anonymous.  I found this poem in my dance studio and thought I should share it:

If you want a thing bad enough
to go out and fight for it,
work day and night for it,
give up your time and peace and sleep for it;
If only desire of it makes you never tire of it
and life seems all empty and useless without it
and all that you scheme and dream is about it;
If gladly you'll sweat for it,
fret for it, plan for it,
lose all you terror of the opposition for it;
If you'll simply go after that thing that you want
with all you capacity,
strength and sagacity,
faith, hope and confidence and stern pertinacity;
If neither cold poverty, famished and gaunt,
nor sickness nor pain
of body or brain
can turn you away from the thing that you want;
If dogged and grim you besiege and beset it
You'll get it!

Quick Change Artist

It often amazes me how quickly things can change, how quickly my emotional state can change.  I'm not sure why this amazes me since I have been up & down and turned around so many times in the past few months that I should know that nothing ever stays the same for long.  Nonetheless, I am still amazed that only 2 days after my last abysmal post, I am pleased to report that I am chipper and cheery and just bursting with excitement.

Truth be known, there is also a little bit of fear mixed in with my excitement -- but as long as it's just a little bit, I can handle it.

I have not felt this positive and full of hope in a very, very long time and I intend to ride this wave for as long as I can.  The next couple of weeks promise to be very positive ones for me and I am so ready to end this summer on a high note.  It's been a rough couple of months and I although I never look forward to the end of summer, it seems the change of seasons will bring with it some changes for me that I have needed for a long time.

Finding Strength

I am an emotional wreck.  I experience just about every emotion in its fullest sense - every day.  I am exhausted and I am losing strength.  I have not felt this fragile in years, if ever.  Sometimes I wonder how I'm going to get through the day but somehow I always do.  Not always in the best shape, but I get through it.

Tonight I read something beautiful and inspiring.  I sat in the light of the moon, with the wind blowing over me and I meditated.  It was immensely restorative.

It also made me acutely aware that I need some time to myself to cleanse and recharge, and I need it to be soon.  If all goes well, it will be.  I'm pretty sure that if I have some time to focus on myself for a few days, I'll return a less fragile and more emotionally stable version of myself.  And then I can really focus on making my future a happy one.

First Steps

I've been thinking a lot about my future recently, which is something I haven't done in a long time.  It has become apparent that I am actually in charge of my own future and that it's up to me to make it what I want it to be.  I'm beginning to get a pretty good idea of what I want and now I need to work towards making it happen.

While I have many plans, today I chose to tackle the career path, since that really seems of foremost importance.  I also think that this will probably take a while, so best to get started on it as soon as I can.

Last Fall, I went to a very informative and interesting fair called "Holisticpalooza" and had a wonderful day learning all sorts of fabulous things like yoga, feng shui, meditative chanting, etc.  At the time, although I found the whole thing vastly enjoyable, I was not at a point where I could really appreciate the value of what I had stumbled upon.  Now I understand. 

The past few months have brought me to the conclusion that I need to embark upon a career in holistic healing and by following my instincts and listening to those who know me best, today I ended up back at the the website for the school that offered the Holisticpalooza.  It seems they offer classes in just about everything I want to do.  So I contacted them and have an appointment this week to go have a tour and talk to their admissions director.  I am simultaneously excited and frightened by this but I believe excitement will overpower the fear.  As it says on the school's website: “You don't have to see the whole staircase, just take the first step.” - Martin Luther King

And, after all, this is just the first step.  It may be a long journey, but I'll never get there if I don't start on the path.  I may also need some patience, as I won't get there overnight.  But I will get to where I want to be.

A Little Help From My Friends

I have spent a good portion of the last 4 days painting.  Not creative, artsy painting; just regular old house painting.  The unusual thing about this is that it wasn't at my house.  Rather, I was helping friends paint their daughter's room.  They are expecting an exchange student tomorrow and were under some time pressure to get the room painted before her arrival, which is why I volunteered to help.

I am a pretty good painter.  I have painted many rooms in many homes so when the topic arose, it seemed natural for me to offer my assistance, which was gladly accepted.  When I offered to help, I did it out of the old-fashioned goodness of my heart.  I didn't expect anything in return, other than the joy of helping out my friends by lessening both the work and the stress.  Which is why I was so surprised to find that I actually got so much more out of the last few days than I ever thought I might.

It turns out that painting is very therapeutic.  As we all know, there's a lot going on in my life and the last month and a half have been particularly topsy-turvy and emotionally challenging for me.  Painting allowed me some much needed alone time.  Obviously I was not entirely alone, as my friend was also in the room.  But we were in there without children, who also knew enough to only interrupt us if absolutely necessary.  Sometimes my friend and I talked: about relationships and things that really "mattered" and sometimes about other things that didn't matter quite so much.  Sometimes we didn't talk at all and I was able to be alone and muse over the torrent of thought constantly running through my head.  But sometimes - and this was best of all - I thought about nothing.

There were times when it was just me and the brush and my little cup of paint and that was all.  I was focused on the painting and nothing else.  There were no thoughts, no distractions, nothing.  Nothing.  And I loved every second of it.

Magic in the Air

There was a certain amount of magic in the air yesterday. Perhaps it blew in on the wind (Lord knows there was enough of it).  I can't explain it but that's the only reasonable explanation for the not one but two, dare I say, earth-shattering events which transpired over the course of the day. 

Our good friends have a family tradition in which they spend the day at the beach in honour of their eldest son's birthday.  This year, we were invited to join them.  The beach is on a lake at a state park not too far from where we live.  We had never been so we were all eager to go.  There is also a lake about a mile from our house, which is usually where we hang out in the summer.  It's a smaller lake with a very small "beach".  The beach at the state park was HUGE in comparison and the kids decided to take advantage of all the sand in which to take turns burying each other.  My son was the first to be buried -- right up to his neck.  The children thought this was fabulous & shouts of "I'm next!" ensued.  My daughter was buried next, followed by one of our friends' sons.  After each child was buried, with only their head stuck on top of a mound of sand, I was instructed to take a picture of the child and those children who did the work. 

Now, saying that my son has issues with having his picture taken would be an understatement.  He has been struggling with Situational Mutism (a childhood anxiety disorder) for the last 5 or 6 years and while he has made incredible strides, one of its last vestiges is an abhorrance to having his picture taken.  If I am not mistaken, it was actually his idea for me to take his picture while he was buried in sand.  If it was not his idea, he certainly made no complaints about it.  And really, as he was buried, there was nothing much he could do to stop my taking as many pictures of him as I wanted.   However, what really surprised me was a while later when I called all the children to gather together around his friend, who was currently buried, for a photo op, my son actually did what I asked.  He knelt down behind his friend together with the other children and was included in the picture.  The picture is one of those quintessential childhood photos that brings joy to the faces of those who look at it. This one will always bring a little bit more joy to my face, as I know how rare an opportunity it really was.

The second phenomenal act of the day was committed by yours truly.  I had spent the afternoon watching the children splash and swim in the lake.  The day was warm and the water was inviting.  I had the last shift on "lifeguard" duty and stood at the edge of the lake in a foot of water, envying the children their fun and longing to join them.  There was only one catch: this was a lake, which meant there was a very high probability that there would be fish in the water.  And I am terrified of fish (Yes, I agree it's an odd phobia, but there you have it).  So I stood at the water's edge having a very repetetive conversation with myself over the pros and cons of actually going into the water.  Add to that the fact that my son had already gone up against one of his big nemeses that day and I was beginning to think that I just might be able to do it.  Then I was told that it was time to call in the children as we were packing up to leave.  There it was: now or never.  So, I mustered up all my courage, took my daughter's hand and waded out into the lake (cursing under my breath all the way).  I finally made it out to where the other children were in waist-high water and decided that if I had gotten that far, I should go all the way -- under, that is.  So the children counted me in: 1, 2, 3! ... and I was still standing.  They had to count me in four or five times before I was finally able to take the plunge.  On the one hand, the water felt great and really refreshing, but it wasn't enough to keep me out there so I bee-lined for the shore.  It turned out I wasn't in the water for long and you couldn't even call what I'd done "swimming" but for me, it was an incredible feat.  I got high-fives and hugs and everyone was thrilled that I had made it into the water, most especially me.  (Of course, I then had to hang out in a wet bathing suit for the better part of an hour and by the time I got home, I had some serious willies about being covered in fish water for that long, but it still wasn't quite enough to bring me down.)

I can't speak for my son about what caused his lapse in camera-induced anxiety, and while I should be able to speak for myself about the lapse in my fish-induced anxiety, I simply can't.  I can guess that my son was just having such a good time with his friends that he forgot to be afraid.  Mine was a much more conscious decision to ignore the fear.  Yesterday it worked.  Next time it might not.  But at least now I know that if everything lines up in just the right way, we can get past those things that hold us back and every time we are able to do that, it makes us just a little bit stronger.